It’s been a while. But there are two major projects

I know. It’s been a while. But there are two major projects that keep me busy around the clock right now. Not that I’m complaining, far from it! And yet my days only have those ridiculous few 24 hours, no matter how hard I keep trying to squeeze in some extra minutes. What projects, you might ask? I’ll give you the scoop in a bit.

Today’s recipe is my successful attempt to replicate the memorable appetizer we once had at one of our favorite restaurants here in Munich – white asparagus gone panna cotta. Incredible easy to prepare and a welcome twist to the usually sweet panna cotta versions. Perfectly seasonal as well, white asparagus will only be available here in Germany until June, 24th (Johannistag/Midsummer).

I like to serve this in neat little yogurt glasses (which I keep only for the purpose of serving desserts or appetizers in them) and since my vegetable box was stocked with green asparagus as well, I decided on a quick raw and crunchy salad to go alongside. Small pink radishes, sweet carrots, some toasted, slivered almonds and a splash of fruity olive oil and lemon juice… this makes up for the spring we never had this year. It’s raining again… ;) Go figure.

Soak the gelatine sheets for 10 minutes in a bowl with cold water.
Cut the white asparagus into slices (thick as a finger) and put into a smaller sized pot together with the heavy cream. Bring to a boil, then let simmer for about 10 minutes. Season to taste with salt, sugar (especially, if the asparagus is slightly bitter) and freshly grated nutmeg.
Strain though a fine mesh sieve (the asparagus can be used for something else, soup for example). Now add the squeezed out gelatine sheets into the hot cream and stir well until completely dissolved.
Fill the hot cream into small glasses and cover well with foil (otherwise it will easily take on smells from the fridge), before chilling it for at least 5 hours, better over night.

Just before serving: slice the pancetta into thin stripes, heat 1 tablespoon of olive oil in a pan and fry the pancetta until crisp. Remove from pan and drain on kitchen towels. Distribute over panna cotta glasses.
For the salad: Roast the slivered almonds in a pan until slightly golden brown (don’t let them burn!), then put into a bowl. Wash and clean the vegetables and cut them into equally thin slices. Mix with the almonds and distribute the salad among little glasses. Cut the basil leaves into very thin stripes (chiffonade) and decorate on top of the salad glasses. Finally sprinkle with some lemon juice and olive oil, then serve together with the panna cotta.

Being not exactly a huge fan of neither

Being not exactly a huge fan of neither marzipan nor Valentinsday this recipe may come to you as a surprise, but when my collagues over at Küchengötter demanded something romantic, chocolate-y for Valentine’s day I finally gave in – and discovered a new favorite homemade treat for myself!

Their name stems from the two main ingredients (MArzipan & PIStachios) and now you have my promise that I won’t be using this kind of naming concept any time soon in the near future. Whether or not you celebrate Valentine’s, these will make any recipient happy – throughout the year. We prefer them chilled, straight from the fridge – ‘love the sound when the chilled chocolate layer breaks!

Finely grind the pistachios either in a food-processor or with a mortar and pestle and cut the marzipan into thin slices. Put both into a bowl, add Cognac and sieved powdered sugar, then knead together by hand until you receive a uniform marzipan-dough.
Sieve some powdered sugar onto your working surface and roll out the marzipan like any other cookie dough. Use more powdered sugar whenever the marzipan tends to get sticky again. Cut out hearts (or any other not to filigree shape) with a cookie cutter when the dough is thin enough (~0.5 cm/0.2 inch). Chill hearts for half an hour in the fridge (covered) to give them additional firmness.
Meanwhile cover a baking tray with parchment paper or a silicone mat. Slowly melt the milk and/or dark chocolate couverture over a hot bain-marie (the pros temper their chocolate). Using a (truffle) fork dip the chilled hearts – one after another – into the melted chocolate until completely covered, remove excess chocolate by taping the fork on the side of the bowl, then place the hearts on the parchment paper.
Even prettier : Melt white chocolate couverture over a hot bain-marie and fill into a small ziploc bag. Cut off only a tiny part of one corner and decorate the chocolate hearts with thin, white stripes, shapes or even names. Let dry completely, then store in closed containers.

Food photography is usually about good

Food photography is usually about good timing and taking photos of ice cream can be a tricky thing. If you believe that there can hardly be anything more challenging to shoot than an already runny sorbet, these little homemade lollies will proof you wrong…
Any ideas what they consist of?

Thanks for playing along!
Frank and Maike got it right, these lollies in fact did consist of dark chocolate and olive oil. Ever since I fell in love with this rather unusual combo a few weeks ago, I couldn’t help but give this quite simple recipe [from Molekularküche] a go.

Cover a thin plastic chopping board with cling film, you might want to fixate it with some scotch tape. Arrange bamboo skewers on it and leave enough room inbetween for the lollies’ heads.
Heat the chopped dark chocolate slowly in a bain-marie. You can temper the chocolate, but since it will be frozen afterwards, there is really no need to. Fill the melted chocolate in a parchment cone and – using light pressure – pipe the outline of the lolly. If the outline is very thin, draw two or three circles. Once done with all your bamboo skewers, carefully transfer the chopping board to the freezer. The chocolate should become solid within 10 to 15 minutes (do not lift lollies from the cling film).
Remove the almost-lollies from the freezer and carefully fill the inner rings with olive oil, an espresso spoon works just fine. Don’t overfill. Transfer to the freezer again (very carefully) and let solidify. This should take a few hours.
Gently detach the lollies from the cling film and eat or serve immediately. Be prepared for an extravagant and absolutely delicious flavor experience, melting olive oil meets frozen chocolate. Don’t even try to take photos, unless you want to have oil dripping everywhere… ;)

Brotzeit“, a term we Bavarians quickly claim to be our own invention

Brotzeit“, a term we Bavarians quickly claim to be our own invention, translates to a small meal, that A) typically consists of down-to-earth Bavarian delicacies and B) preferably is eaten in a cozy Bavarian beer garden. Not to be confused with the obsolete greeting “Mahlzeit!” (an abbreviation of “Gesegnete Mahlzeit!”, roughly translating to “Have a blessed meal!”), an expression that is being abused in countless German offices around lunch time (and annoys the heck out of me).

So why is it, that now that temperatures have dropped to somewhere between a pleasant 22°C and an already chilly 16°C all of a sudden there is no time left for cooking? During our recent heat wave it was simply too hot to do anything, let alone stand in the kitchen and flip a steak. Now that we’ve survived the hot spell and start to appreciate a few cooler days (ok I could easily do without the rain) I’m swamped with work. I guess you can’t have it all…

Naturally, my favorite coffee bar at work has seen me on a more frequent basis to pick up a sandwich or two. For everyone else struggling with a tight schedule, here is a very basic Brotzeit suggestion: Take a thick slice of the best (German) sourdough bread you can find. For me that would be the Bauernkruste from the Schmidt bakery (Steinstraße 27 and Viktualienmarkt), which has a wonderful tasty crumb and -most importantly- the crunchiest crust! Top it generously with butter, a sliced radish (the small pink ones) or freshly chopped chives and don’t forget to add some coarse sea salt. In beer gardens the white radish is usually cut and served in the shape of an accordion and salted, so it starts to sweat. While a hard core Bavarian (shame on us) is probably supposed to know how to achieve the right look with just a sharp knive, there is also a gadget available supposingly producing nice curls so you don’t have to (oops got carried away, this how zefrank would have ended his sentence – apparently ‘been watching too many clips lately). Anyway that’s just eyecandy, when you’re tight on time, thin slices will do just fine! Stay tuned for more elaborate Bavarian Brotzeit tips…

My mother and I turned around and made these cookies

The paper was brown and faded and stuffed in the back of a drawer. A long time ago it had been torn out of a small spiral notebook and now my mother smoothed it between her fingers, brought it close to her face, and smiled.
"I used to eat this out of the bowl," she said.
"Eat what?"
"The dough for Grammy's molasses cookies."
It turns out that crumbled piece of paper held a recipe, taken from God knows where, for spiced molasses cookies. Once upon a time my grandmother would bake them for my mother, who hadn't had them in over forty years.
My mother and I turned around and made these cookies almost immediately. She wanted to taste, and by tasting, remember. I wanted to share in a little piece of her history. Truthfully, I was expecting these cookies to be just "ok." They sounded a little boring. I assumed they would only be worth making for the value of nostalgia. Boy, was I wrong.
These are one of the only spiced cookies where I didn't take one bite and say, "Hmm, I wish there was more flavor." The texture is perfectly chewy and there are just the right amount of raisins. They taste of dark brown sugar and molasses, with hits of cinnamon, nutmeg, and cloves. I'll be making these for a long time. For my own grandchildren, perhaps.